


No Return

by darkwrinkle



Category: Away (TV)
Genre: Alpha Emma Green, F/M, Female Alpha, Omega Misha, Smut, dickgirl, fake/unrealistic science and anatomy, female top, it’s abo...what’d you expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26376448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkwrinkle/pseuds/darkwrinkle
Summary: As Misha’s eyesight continues deteriorating in space, he finds it hard to differentiate small prints on food packaging and more direly, his heat suppressants.When alpha Commander Green realises her own suppressants are missing, she merely assumes the other alpha astronauts have taken her share of medicine, until they get a telltale whiff of invitingly sweet pheromones wafting out of Cosmonaut Popov’s pod.Not the best time when everyone is faint from dehydration.
Relationships: Emma Green/Misha Popov
Kudos: 11





	No Return

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha Emma/Omega Misha  
> Basically an excuse to have Emma top Misha.
> 
> Please read the tags, I’m warning you.

"Someone needs to administer counter-heat drug." Ram, ever helpful, points out the obvious.

The three other astronauts in the hallway look at him almost uniformly with a deadpan expression. 

“I’ll do it,” The commander volunteers as always, an expression of guilt flitting across her tired and bloodshot eyes. “It’s my fault, anyway, that I didn’t realise.” 

Before her crew mates can comfort her, she shakes her head. “You know I’m right, I should be more vigilant, but I didn’t check on whose taking the suppressants in my drawer of the medicine cabinet.” She looks to Ram, holding out a hand.

Ram shakes his head, handing the needle to Kwesi instead. “Kwesi is the only beta, he’ll be least affected by the heat.”

Once Kwesi enters and shuts the pod door, the three alphas outside exhales after holding their breaths. Not a lot of good it does, because the heavy stench of sweet musk doesn’t dissipate easily.

“Many omegas are not responsive to the counter-heat medicine, so we may have to bear with this...situation, until Misha’s heat cycle is over.” Ram continues after a moment of stifling silence, where the astronauts remain unmoving outside of Misha’s living quarters. “Kwesi needs to administer the drug everyday, as well, given he’s not too affected by the pheromones, even when he’s a beta. Misha always has a particularly strong smell.” Ram wrinkles his nose with a lopsided grin and both women chuckle briefly in consent.

“Especially now, when we have forgone showers.” Lu adds, eyes glimmering.

“Hah.” Emma huffs, leaning back against the cool wall. Her head is spinning, pounding lightly. The mouth-watering scent is only making her thoughts fuzzier. Like lighting an overly fragrant candle in a humid, misty sauna, fogging up her vision and brain. 

A pool of warmth swirls between her legs, and she takes it as a bad indication of her body preparing for a heat-induced rut. 

“I’m going to my room.” She announces quietly before striding away briskly. She has enough anxiety regarding her family on earth, dealing with a rut will only take a toll on her already dehydrated body.

In the end, only Ram remains waiting for Kwesi, to give him further instructions on aiding Misha’s heat.

* * *

The British man holds up the _equipment_ awkwardly, “Of all things, why would you bring _this_ , Ram?” 

Shrugging nonchalantly, the other grins, “It’s useful after all, no? You told me Misha doesn’t have any, ah, tools, to help him tide over the mating urges. A dildo is the next best alternative.” 

Blushing vigorously, Kwesi exclaims, “I know that! Stop talking, I get it! I’ll pass this on to him now.” 

He floats down the ladder and sees commander Green about to exit her room. Immediately, he hides the incriminating object behind his back, shuffling hurriedly to his destination. 

He doesn’t feel the eyes burning holes into his hand, where the vividly packaged purple shaft lies. 

* * *

The greying man looks up at the blurry ceiling. The blotches of colours a cruel reminder of what he is once able to see. 

Usually, to take his mind off his gradual blindness, he’ll work on his puppets or try to decipher blueprints sent over by Matt, the commander’s partner.

Presently, however, his fingers are a little occupied with the unbearable warmth burning below. Although his fingers are never slender (in fact quite the opposite), it isn’t sufficient enough for the slick cavern clenching around it. 

Cursing his own foolishness, and mind occupied with finding alternatives to his fingers, he jolts from the first knock on his door.

“Misha, I’ve brought something that Ram recommends you use.” The strangely nervous voice calls out. When Misha doesn’t answer immediately, the knocking turns impatient, uncomfortable laughter muffled through the walls.

“Misha, you alright? Can you unlock the door? I just need to pass you a package.” 

Curling his wet, slick-soaked fingers into a fist, Misha uses his other, relatively dryer hand to pop open the lock and slip a hand through. 

The hard plastic of a compact parcel is dropped into his palm and Misha can make out a shadow fleeing from his pod. 

The stench of his pheromones must be unpleasant to be around. 

Closing the door swiftly, he feels around the edges of the plastic covering, eager to rip it open once he understands what Ram has given him. 

He flops back onto his single bed, coating the smooth length with some of the remaining slick from his fingers, and adds more lube that Ram has also previously provided, like the thoughtful doctor he is. 

A series of foreboding clicks is the only warning he gets before his door swings open, the much more potent scent of an alpha flooding his nose. 

Ah, he may have forgotten to lock his door in the rush of excitement.

* * *

Emma’s feet move before her brains have caught on to her destination. 

She has the foresight to hide in an empty pod as she waits for Kwesi to run past like he’s being chased by hungry wolves. When the halls are silent once again, her feet leads her body forward as her brain remains bewildered and clouded.

The door she stumbles to a stop to, hides a delicious smell behind it. Nothing but a thin sheet of metal cannot deter her from her goal, but an inkling of hesitance roots her to the ground. 

She shouldn’t enter. It’s not safe. For who, exactly, she doesn’t know. The alpha hears a low groan emanating softy through the walls. She quickly forgets her initial reluctance. 

When the door opens, the overwhelming, almost pungently sweet smell envelopes her senses. Scorching heat swells in her groin when her eyes land on the stunned, unmoving and very ripe omega lain out before her.

Emma purrs with approval at the pleasing display on the bed. However, before she can take another step, the omega jumps up to push her shoulders away. 

Temper flaring at the omega’s futile attempts to chase her away, she turns to seal the door instead. Now there is no escape possible for the uncooperative omega.

“Emma, what’r you doing here!” The voice doesn’t shake, a steady calm she’s vaguely familiar with. 

Her head aches, barely comprehending the protests spilling from breathless lips, but the soothing warmth of her omega reminds her of her purpose here. 

“Misha, you feel so good.” The alpha sighs against the body, embracing the strong waist tightly. 

“Emma, Emma! Commander Green, you’r breaking protocol!” The voice grows louder, blowing hot against her temple. 

Emma’s only response is to press them onto the small bed. A nest unfit for such a wonderfully capable omega, but alas, it’s too late to change this particular blemish.

“Emma, stop! Matt won’t like this. Your daughter won’t like this. Commander, think about what you’re doing for once!” The alpha pauses at the angry gravelly voice, but only to bat away the resisting hands pushing at her front.

Closing her eyes contently, she sneaks her palms underneath the sweat-ridden shirt, brushing across two round and stiff nubs on a clammy chest. Misha’s breath hitches and a trembling exhale loosens from his mouth. She smirks against the omega’s side, mouthing the subtle protrusion of his ribs as his chest expands rapidly.

Growing impatient with the flimsy barrier, she tugs the shirt over his head and kneels over his squirming legs, admiring the body below her. The freckled skin is flush and pink, and the swell of his belly soft as she kneads the mounds of fat around it. 

Finally surrendering to her ministrations, the blue eyes watch her, unfocused but desperate enough to relay their desire. Emma is especially attentive to the glistening lips emitting hoarse gasps and rippling moans when her fingers brush past the elongated clit to circle the wet folds of his opening. 

“Emma, Emmochka, please. _Please_.” He grabs her wrist, doesn’t move in favour of clinging tightly to her. Emma licks greedily at the moisture escaping his pale eyes. Her mouth nips his closed lids, his nose, finally pressing against his sticky, damp lips. Sucking painfully on them until the mouth falls open obediently. She delves into the wetness enthusiastically, feeling over every groove and pliant surface with her tongue. 

Long fingers sink into the dripping cunt, and a high keen spurs her to twist her two fingers deeper, rubbing lightly against the convulsing walls. 

“Hah, ah, more. More.” Hands grab her arms as Misha pushes up against her teasing fingers. 

“Good boy.” Emma murmurs, holding down the bucking hips to concentrate on loosening the hole clamping down on her fingers. 

When it’s widened appropriately, she gathers the globules of wet, syrupy secretion leaking from hole and rubs the lubricant along her hardening clit. She squeezes gently along the lengthening penis until it bounces out completely from under the hood of her clit. 

When she lifts her head back up, her omega has lifted himself against a mound of pillows, uttering little needy moans as he rolls his swollen, red clit between his fingers.

Emma slides closer between the open gap of Misha’s muscled, supple thighs. She pries his hands away and brushes the tip of her cock against his smaller clit. Misha arches off the bed, groaning. 

She caresses the dips along his hips, placating him to lie back down. Cooing in delight, she presses the head of her length into the inviting heat, the lips of Misha’s cunt clenching around her tightly, before relaxing and allowing her to bury herself to the hilt with one thrust. 

Misha twists himself away, overwhelming pleasure sending heated sparks up the base of his spine, The large cock, hot and hard is plunging into him like it wants to pierce through his belly. Just when he is convinced he’ll never feel pleasure more intense, Emma starts sliding in and out of his opening. Always thrusting in deep, easily parting the drenched walls hugging her cock. She holds his jerking hips steady and guides his movement to the rhythm of her relentless pounding. 

“Emma,” He whimpers again and again, swaying helplessly to her beat. 

With his worsening vision, he can’t see faces anymore, unless they are inches apart from each other. He’s desperate enough to push himself up on shaking arms and wrap his long legs around the alpha’s slender waist. Emma sits with her back to the wall to accommodate the extra weight, dragging her cock languidly along the smooth rings of muscles within the thoroughly soaked canal. 

Misha takes the smooth, crimson-stained cheeks of the alpha in his hands, tilting her head up to meet his lust-ridden gaze. When his eyes can focus clearly on the beautiful face before him, he whispers reverently, “Emmochka, fuck me harder.” 

Glinting brown eyes widen a fraction, quickly shifting into the perfect picture of affectionate indulgence. She pistons her hips upwards faster and harder, complying effortlessly.

Delirious with pleasure, Misha babbles uncontrollably, “So strong, so beautiful Emma. Emma, my alpha.” A rumbling groan is ripped from his throat when he feels the sinewy muscles tense under his painful grip. 

Spurts of boiling hot semen splash against his walls, and Misha mewls loudly, a gush of cum mingling with the alpha’s within his thoroughly bred cunt. The thought itself almost sends him into another orgasm, hole twitching lewdly around the expanding knot plugging his entrance. 

He doesn’t try to move from the burn of being stretched impossibly _wider_ , opting to cling onto his commander’s elegant, tantalising neck.

Misha’s closely shaven head lies heavily on top of Emma’s head, giving butterfly kisses to the long, golden-brown strands of hair. Emma hums comfortably, cushioning her omega cautiously when she falls back onto the bed.

Clearly exhausted, she presses her face into the crook between Misha’s neck and collarbone.

“Sleep.” She mutters, stroking his back soothingly.

* * *

Kwesi doesn’t think anything’s wrong until he finds Misha’s pod unlocked. 

Not until he sees the two unconscious bodies twining together. 

“R-Ram!” He hollers down the hall, eyes ready to bulge out of his head, “There’s a situation!”


End file.
